


the fool, the world

by fl4nel



Series: sunaosa aus [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (very) brief mention of nudity, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Werewolf Hunters, the author romanticizes winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fl4nel/pseuds/fl4nel
Summary: "He adjusts his collar against the biting wind just as faint howling echoes in the distance.Suna tenses and exhales, condensation forming around his breath. He has a long night ahead."
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: sunaosa aus [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2115234
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36
Collections: SunaOsa





	the fool, the world

**Author's Note:**

> title is only because i thought 'the hermit, the moon' was too on the nose lol
> 
> this is technically a late entry for #sunarinweek day 5 **mythology**!!

The moon is still out when Suna steps outside.

Its crescent is no larger than a fingernail, but the blueish glow it casts over the snow-covered valley more than suffices. Clear winter nights like this have this strange and wonderful luminosity to them and Suna knows his way around the mountains by now. Their jagged summits tower over him, dark and imposing and farther than they seem to be. Down across the valley, the Village seems minuscule in comparison. He can spot a few lights shining at the windows, but not much else.

He adjusts his collar against the biting wind just as faint howling echoes in the distance.

Suna tenses and exhales, condensation forming around his breath. He has a long night ahead.

Adjusting his bow behind his back, he starts making his way towards the road leading to the mountain pass. It hasn’t snowed in a few days, which means the snow is hard and compact under his feet, which hopefully means he can make it there and back before the sun comes up. There’s only so long one can go without a proper night of sleep.

His gaze gets pulled towards the sky again. The night is clear, and the moon doesn’t shine bright enough to eclipse the thousands of stars strewn around. Suna has been around long enough that the sight doesn’t stun him anymore, but there’s a familiar serenity to it all that he will forever appreciate.

Being outside at night during a waxing moon always feels pretty weird. Wolves aren’t at their most active, but there’s this growing restless energy in the air in the wake of a new moon that makes everyone feel a bit on edge.

The Village doesn’t do very well with unpredictability. Old traditions and ancient fears are deeply rooted in their history and their coexistence with the wolves is still fresh and feels precarious on the best of days. And with a delivery convoy scheduled to cross the mountain pass in the next few days, people had quickly started growing anxious again after hearing some rumors about a pack being seen in the same area.

An isolated village like theirs rely on those scheduled deliveries for fresh food and tools during wintertime and, if locals still feel uneasy around wolves, outsiders are even worse. On more than one occasion, they’d simply turned back after spotting a few tracks near the road.

Hoping to avoid a similar situation this time around, Suna had volunteered to go check things out. He lives closer—his cabin is a short hike away from the village—and as a retired hunter, has the pull and the skill necessary to make his point with minimal collateral damage. Or, at the very least, that had been what he’d told the chief.

No one had argued.

The packs in the area have odd, everchanging hierarchies, and though Suna is on polite terms with most of them, he’d never considered himself a great diplomat. Sometimes, mediating simply requires less effort. His impressive kill count had apparently earned him the respect of a few prominent figures in some of the important clans too, which usually mean he can come and go without any issues. Among other things.

As civil as he might try to be, Suna doesn’t understand how packs work most of the time and he will never pretend that he does. When you have been looking after yourself, and only yourself, for the better part of your life, this level of mutual trust between so many individuals feels too foreign to even begin to conceive.

And yet, Suna thinks with one last look at the moon, he’s not entirely alone now. Or unbiased.

Not anymore.

*

As Suna approaches the pass, he leaves the main road in favor of the forest and the dense shadows of the trees. Firs and hemlocks swallow him right up, branches releasing a few snowflakes as he pushes past. Without the wind, the absence of sound a bit unsettling at first. Winter is always quiet, but the carpet of snow is thicker here and the cover provided by the trees enhances the silence in a strange and eerie way.

It doesn’t take long for him to spot the mark he’s been looking for. It’s been carved deep into the bark of a century-old oak tree, indicating a path leading to the peak of the pass. Suna usually avoids the forest—his bow is a lot more useful to him on open grounds—but this time around, he thinks it wiser to climb up there and get a better idea of what he’s walking into before showing up unannounced. He has a hunch he knows which pack it is this time, but better be safe than sorry.

There’s a sudden stutter in his steps, his body catching on a growing sense of unease before his mind does. Suna’s blood runs cold as an oppressive feeling permeates the air around him. His hand tightens around his dagger. He knows this sensation very well.

He cannot see or hear anything. There is no warning.

There is never any warning.

It’s a feeling that crystallizes.

_Ah. Prey._

Moving purely by instinct, Suna manages to whirl around just as a heavy weight collide with his chest. He falls on his back with a _oof_ and a curse _._ The dark, furry shape that pins him to the ground growls and shifts almost immediately. In the span of a few heartbeats, the beast holding him in place makes way to a very human, very amused Osamu.

Suna closes his eyes briefly and lets his head fall back with a sigh. There is ice melting on his back and his heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest.

“Asshole.”

He struggles to catch his breath, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Might as well kill me yourself instead of trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Yer a lousy hunter.” There is a smile in his words. Suna can’t see his face, but he sure does feel the icy tip of his nose when Osamu buries his face in the crook of his neck, right where his coat opened up during his fall.

“You’re a lousy wolf,” Suna shoots back weakly. He drops the silver dagger he had inches from Osamu’s throat. “And a lousy boyfriend.”

Osamu huffs.

“I resent that.” 

He leans back so that he’s sitting on Suna’s torso instead of laying all over him like the world’s heaviest blanket. Suna doesn’t even flinch at all the bare skin on display. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. “Imma great boyfriend. I went ahead and cleared the road for ya.”

“Stealing my kills now, are you?”

“No way.” Osamu grins something feral. Fresh from a shift, everything about him feels a little menacing still, a little wild. He’s not entirely human yet. “Ya don’t do that anymore. I just made sure they’d stay clear of the roads for a bit. Yer expecting a delivery soon, right? Yer welcome.”

Suna blinks, a little stunned. He had been hoping to run into Osamu tonight for this exact reason, but he didn’t expect Osamu to take care of the issue before he’d even showed up. It makes things a lot simpler—no need to play diplomat tonight. Suna trusts Osamu and his leverage on Inarizaki enough. Plus, it saves him more than a few hours of walking in the cold with snow up to his knees.

Speaking of—Suna has to repress a shiver. The adrenaline is coming down and he is wet and freezing.

Osamu frowns, misinterpreting his reaction. “Can’t I just do something nice for ya?” There is concern in his voice. “Y’need sleep, Rin.”

Suna doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, being cared for. He still struggles with finding ways to express his gratitude sometimes.

“Thank you,” he says, as softly as he can manage. He means it.

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes.” Suna smirks, stretching his arms up. “Now carry me back.”

Osamu throws his head back to laugh, then leans back down to peck Suna on the nose.

“Anything for ya.”

*

Osamu hisses and Suna shushes him gently. “No complaining.” He throws away the cloth he was using to disinfect the small wound on Osamu’s shoulder. “You should have told me you were injured. I would have walked back myself.”

They’d made it back in good time with Osamu in wolf form, but Suna knows switching can be exhausting, especially this close to the new moon. He should have noticed the wound earlier. It had been dark out, but still. Sighing, he grabs a piece of gaze and some bandages to wrap around Osamu’s shoulder. Osamu shrugs as much as the motion allows. “You take care of me, I take care of ya.”

Suna squints and doesn’t comment.

He knows it’s one of his werewolf sayings. It’s been months, and Osamu still startles him with how open he’s willing to be about his life and everything about it. In a different life, they’d still be enemies. Suna never quite knows what to make of this trust Osamu bestows upon him. He trusts Suna with his secrets, his clan’s secrets, trusts that Suna will not hurt him, will not betray him.

It’s maddening. Suna can’t exactly be his normal, guarded self around him when Osamu comes at him so forthright and honest. It makes him feel vulnerable beyond measure, like his façade is being pulled apart at the seams and he’s but a mere stitches away from it dissolving completely.

He secures the rest of the bandage in silence and stands back up to check his work.

Osamu looks up in question. They say the eyes are the mirror of the soul, and all Suna can see, all he can feel when he meets Osamu’s eyes, is his immeasurable warmth. He’s suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, so he does.

Cradling Osamu’s face in his hands, Suna leans in, tender as he can ever be. Osamu meets him halfway.

Their kiss is chaste and comforting. Strangely intimate without the heat.

“I’m tired,” Suna murmurs, a breath against Osamu’s mouth.

Osamu pulls back, a fond smile on his lips. “Let’s get you to bed, then.”

He seals the deal with a forehead kiss and Suna’s insides burn alight, consumed.

**Author's Note:**

> i love sunaosa they're my favorite ship to slap random aus on 
> 
> thank you for reading!! comments and kudos are always lovely!!


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